


Chains

by KitiaraM



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitiaraM/pseuds/KitiaraM
Summary: Sith inquistor, formerly a slave, rises to power.
Relationships: Andronikos Revel/Female Sith Inquisitor





	1. Prologue

_Peace is a lie._

She knew that already. The only peace to be found was in death. And she was not ready for that, yet. It would have been very easy to succumb to its siren call in the slave pens, but she had not, and would not now.

_There is only passion._

Oh, she had passion. Passionate anger, that she stoked and fed until it burned white-hot. This was her only chance, and no piece-of-shit overseer with his little pure-blood pet was going to stop her. She had known from the beginning that her only choices were life as a Sith, or death. Either was preferable to a life of slavery.

 _Through passion, I gain strength_.

She had watched and learned since arriving on Korriban, and discovered some interesting things. The truly powerful Sith, the ones that all the others feared, did not give their passion free rein. Not that they did not have passion, they did. But they controlled it, directed it… harvested it. Forged it into a weapon. As she would do.

 _Through strength, I gain power_.

Every trial, every fight, only fed her rage. She knew Harkun set her impossible tasks, and it only made her more determined. Her inner core of rage sustained her when she fell bleeding and broken on the harsh sands, made her rise again and again, until her enemies were defeated. He would NOT win.

 _Through power, I gain victory_.

Watching Zash destroy her rival was nearly as satisfying as if she'd been allowed to do so herself. She would love to kill Harkun as well, but perhaps seeing his hopes dashed along with his protégé was retribution enough. For now. And seeing the one he had reviled triumph had to be salt in his wounds.

 _Through victory, my chains are broken_.

Miho turned on the shuttle ramp, to look out over the sun-blasted rocks of Korriban one last time. Khem Val hovered at her side, and she felt the Dashade's fury with her through their bond. He thought her weak and unfit to be his master. He would learn.

They would all learn.


	2. Dromund Kaas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having left Korriban, arrives on Dromund Kaas, capitol of the Sith Empire. Sith machinations abound... (short, yes. Trying to avoid simply rehashing game dialogue.)

Dromund Kaas, capitol of the Empire. It sounded grand, but it was a bit of a let-down, actually. She would have expected them to have more control of the planet than they did. Wild animals attacking, mercenaries and slaves running wild, rebellious lords thumbing their noses at the government... it hardly boded well for the Empire.

Granted, it was nothing that she couldn't handle, even though Zash kept her quite busy hunting down clues to the artifacts. The lord's reticence on her exact plans was a bit frustrating, but Miho really didn't have much choice. Zash was... not what she expected in a Sith. Miho instinctively distrusted someone so bright and cheerful all the time--much less one who called her 'dear'--but so far the Sith lord had done well by her. She wasn't naive enough to think Zash wasn't using her, but she would stay on her guard and go along. For now.

Still, she wasn't stupid. She didn't tell Zash about her encounter with her ancestor in the tomb. Discovering that she actually did have Sith blood was quite a revelation; speaking with Lord Kallig himself even more so. How far the mighty had fallen, that his descendant was a slave.... Perhaps that officious lord on Korriban should have checked _her_ blood. He probably would have fallen over in apoplexy.

It rankled, though, not knowing exactly what Zash was up to, being forced to scurry all over doing the woman's dirty work. Well, as long as Zash needed her, she should be relatively safe. And she had Khem on her side, even if unwillingly.

She pondered that for a moment. Lately she'd begun to notice that his protestations were sounding almost perfunctory. Was the 'monster' taming to her hand, or was he merely lulling her with his apparent cooperation? It was a tightrope wire she walked, Zash on one side and her 'pet' assassin on the other. How long before Zash had what she wanted? How long before Khem grew strong enough to throw off the bond?

Ah, and yet it was better than the slave pens. She still answered to someone else, but at least the food was better, and she was much, much higher up the chain. And the stakes were higher yet.

She quickened her stride. "Hurry along, Khem. We have much to do."

************************

Miho waited until they were well clear of the building before letting a small smile cross her lips. So, everyone thought Zash had killed Skotia? Well, it had been her plan, even if Miho was the one that carried it out. And better the blame as well as credit was laid at Zash's feet. If it was discovered that a 'mere' apprentice had killed a Sith Lord as powerful as Skotia, she would likely not live to brag on it.

A growl roused her from her thoughts and she glanced at the Dashade. "Something amiss, Khem?"

He spat. "That one tasted of metal and electricity more than the Force. Most unsatisfying." His voice still sounded like rocks crashing against one another, but by now she had no trouble deciphering his meaning.

"Don't worry, we shall find more tasty fare for you." Her thoughts jumped ahead as they entered the spaceport. At last she would see the galaxy! Tracking down the artifacts for Zash (she refused to call the woman 'master', at least in her thoughts) was her mission, yes, but surely she would have time to herself as well. And—she stopped as she entered the docking bay. The ship's sleek lines fairly shouted speed and lethality in equal measure, and for a moment she forgot her status, her dignity, even the monster at her side. Eager as a child she dashed forward to drink it in. _Mine!_

It was more than merely transport, more than a reward… it was freedom.


	3. Balmorra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Balmorra... giant venomous bugs. War. But all Miho cares about is her own objective.

Balmorra might have been a nice planet once, but war had left its ugly mark -- was still leaving it. Imperials and Republic, not to mention the colicoids, huge bug-like creatures that seemed not only to not mind the toxic sludge that dotted the landscape but thrive on it, had turned most of the planet into a barren waste. 

Miho had dodged troops from both sides in her quest for the artifact. Of course, she had to make nice with the local military, who had at least proved somewhat useful in finding the location, but left all the dirty work up to her. 

Including retrieving a defecting scientist.

“I won’t go back to that place! You don’t know what it’s like! We’re not expected to be men. We’re machines, slaving day in and day out. No intellectual freedom, no creativity… I’m tired of building killing machines. I want to do some good for humanity. I can’t go back there!”

_I know exactly what it’s like!_ Miho stopped herself from retorting hotly. Did he think no one else knew what it was to be a slave? Instead she forced herself to respond calmly. “I can promise you, I’m not trying to build a killing machine. Once you do what I want, you may leave.”

Tyrek sneered. “I know better than to believe the promises of a Sith. You’ll have to kill me; I’ll never return to the Empire willingly!”

She had had quite enough of this. “If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t still be talking.” Disdaining even to use the Force, she swung at him, using every ounce of energy in her small frame. Not expecting a physical attack, he hadn’t even tried to block her, and her fist connected with a gratifying *thunk*. He fell to the ground unconscious. She grimaced as her knuckles throbbed. Lissa had taught her that one. 

The pounding of feet and jingle of metal heralded the arrival of Imperial troops. She motioned to the soldiers. “Take him to Sobrik. Gently!” as they lifted the inert body of Doctor Tyrek. “I need him intact.” She gazed after the troop as they left, pondering the doctor’s words. There was never a question of whether she would let him go; she needed him to make the serum that would allow her to descend into the toxic-waste-filled vault to retrieve the artifact. She didn’t really care that he had defected to the Republic. But his words disturbed her, especially his claims of slavery. That was something she knew all too much about.

The holocomm buzzed, rousing her from her useless thoughts. It didn’t matter; only he could translate the notes and make the serum. Such was life; the powerful did what they wanted, and others did what the powerful wanted. She schooled her face to a blank expression and answered the comm. 

As she’d expected, it was Major Bessiker. After signing off she permitted herself a snarl. She wanted off this stinking, war-torn planet, and Bessiker’s son -- ‘my son the Sith’ -- had to go and get himself captured. 

“Pfah.” Khem growled and spat. “You should let this Sith die. He failed; he is not worthy to live.”

She stifled a growl of her own. “For now, I need the major. I’d be perfectly willing to let his son rot in whatever prison they have him in, but I need that artifact, and Bessiker is my route to it.” He had found the location of the blown-out vault that probably held the artifact, true. And come up with the idea of ‘borrowing’ the colicoids’ resistance to the toxic waste that filled it. Although, she did have the doctor now; she might not need the major any longer. Eh, better not to take a chance. It wasn’t too far out of her way; until the artifact was actually in her hands, she wouldn’t throw away any possibly useful tool. Within reason, of course.

Her mood changed as something occurred to her. It was bound to be very embarrassing to the Sith, having to be rescued. Especially by a slave. With a little thought, this might even be fun. A slow smile spread across her face. “Come, Khem, we have work to do.”

****

Miho didn’t bother restraining a sigh as Bessiker railed at her. Yes, she had killed his son. Hiran shouldn’t have attacked her. Granted, she had goaded him, but his arrogant, casual cruelty had struck a nerve, reminding her of past tormentors. Her temper had flared and she had given her anger free reign, until the Sith lay silent on the floor. 

And the artifact he’d been after wasn’t even that impressive. 

Her patience abruptly came to an end. “Your son was a disciple of the dark side. He knew what that meant and he certainly wasn’t a good boy,” she snapped. Did any parent ever really know their children?

The major didn’t appear to even hear her. “You evil, wretched, bloodthirsty… I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! You will never get your serum because I’ll kill you!”

His grief and anger made the fight even less worthy of the name; two passes and he staggered back, vainly trying to keep his guts from spilling onto the floor. Miho watched him die, her face impassive. She would have been perfectly willing to let him live, if he had not attacked her.

A sound behind her whirled her around, lightsaber held high. Doctor Tyrek stumbled back, hands raised defensively. “Whoa, whoa there Sith! Calm down. I’ve got your serum right here.”

Slightly mollified, she lowered the saber. Encouraged, Tyrek darted a glance at the body. “Ah, maybe the major deserved what he got—who am I to say? But there’s no reason to do anything rash.” 

She snorted. “Reason? I don’t need a reason to kill you.” But she clicked the saber off and holstered it, feeling excitement rise up. She had done all of the legwork: finding the abandoned laboratory, fighting off the colicoids to find the precious data, ‘retrieving’ Tyrek to make the serum, and now she was close to her goal. 

The doctor licked his lips nervously. “Look, I see where you’re coming from. You have big plans, and the major got in your way. But please, don’t take this the wrong way – your plan is insane!”

She raised an eyebrow. “The more insane the plan, the better. Great rewards demand great risks.” She felt Khem’s approval, but perversely it only aggravated her. “Khem, go see to our supplies. I want to leave as soon as possible for the vault,” she ordered. 

She could feel that the Dashade wanted to argue but it settled for a virulent glare before obeying. She had already turned back to Tyrek. “The serum. Now.”

He seemed about to say more, but reached out and picked up a vial from the work table. “Here, I made it just as the datapad specified. You’re probably on the right track; the serum should give you resistance to the stuff in the blown-out vault. But, there’s also a good chance the serum will kill you. I mean, it was intended for colicoids, not humans!”

She barely heard his warning. _Finally!_ Her imminent success making her a bit giddy, she gave the doctor a wicked grin. “And how do you know I’m not a Colicoid?”

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment. “Crazy, I say. You are crazy.” But he held out the vial. “Here you go. It’s only a limited number of doses, and like I said, I’d use it sparingly if I were you. You’ll have to fight past the main Republic base to get to the vault, but seriously, whatever the Republic throws at you, the Colicoids will be worse.”

Her fingers closed around the vial, his words barely registering through the song of triumph in her mind. What did she care for the Republic, or the bugs? Success was within her grasp, and no one, nothing, would stand between her and it. She held the vial up, studying the vilely glowing liquid inside. “Thank you, Doctor. You may go,” she said absently. Hmm, it seemed more gelatinous than liquid. She would wait until actually at the vault to take it. It would work, she had no doubt of that.

“What?” Tyrek’s incredulous exclamation drew her gaze from the serum. “You, you can’t be serious! I mean, you’re a Sith, you wouldn’t—you’d let me go back to the Republic?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Frankly, Doctor, I don’t care where you go.” She started to turn away but he stepped back in front of her.

“Look, you know I’ll never make it out alive. If you’re really serious, you’ll authorize a shuttle for me out of here.”

She sighed. “Fine, if it will get you out of my way.” She made the necessary call, signing off with a flourish. “There. Now get out of my sight.”

“Thank you, my lord. You’re a strange sort of Sith, but I appreciate it. You know, if you ever want to come over to the other side…” he trailed off at her look. “Well, thank you anyway.” He left, his steps becoming more hurried as he disappeared. 

She went to find Khem. The sooner they got to this vault, the sooner she could get off this blasted world herself.


	4. Nar Shaddaa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nar Shaddaa: Hutt-controlled, dirty, raucous... you can find any vice you can pay for.

Oh, the adulation of her ‘cult’ was sweet. 

At first.

Living in the slave pens, she’d thought that nothing would be finer than to be on the other side, to be the one to whom everyone bowed and scraped. Now that she was, she was discovering that having was, indeed, not so fine a thing as wanting. True, it hadn’t bothered her when the odd official groveled to her, but that was different. Seeing a pompous blowhard brought down to his proper level was rather satisfying, actually. But these poor fools… they were only a step above her original station, slaves in all but name.

Lord Paladius played on the ignorance and gullibility of his flock, and here she was doing the same, only better. Was that truly what she aspired to? Perhaps they deserved no better, but then what did they have to look forward to, here in the slums of a Hutt-controlled world? If they found peace in their belief of her, who was she to gainsay it? 

She considered her ‘helpers’, defectors from Paladius’ ‘loving’ family. Destris was a type she’d seen all too often: loud and arrogant, not prone to thinking ahead, and generally only good for brute force. If she left him in charge of the cult, she would have to keep a close watch on him. He had the capability of becoming even more of a thug than Paladius. He did possess a certain crude cunning, true, but it was not enough to keep him out of trouble.

Rylee, now, was quite different. For one, she seemed to a true believer in her cause. She also was very good at anticipating problems; the girl had a brain, and the knack of seeing possibilities that others missed. She had found this place for a headquarters, and had been the one to propose finding a cure for the Rot instead of simply bashing heads. Miho knew from experience, there was always going to be another group of thugs waiting for their chance to reign, but illness affected everyone. Hmm, perhaps they should offer their healing services to the gangs; subversion and coercion worked as well, and more completely, than simple violence. 

Even the idea for the interruption of Paladius’ speech had come from Rylee, although Destris had been helpful in the implementation. And it had garnered them many converts, weakening the rival Sith and strengthening her position immeasurably. No wonder he wanted to ‘talk’. 

“My lord?”

The soft query stirred Miho from her thoughts. She stood, brushed off her robes and turned to face Rylee. “It’s time.”

The girl nodded, deferential but not obsequious. “Yes, my lord.”

“We’re gonna show Paladius who’s boss!” Destris somehow managed to swagger while standing still. Rylee seemed to sense Miho’s contempt and elbowed the man discretely. He blinked and stood more straightly.

Miho sighed. It really wasn’t even a contest as to who to leave in charge when she departed. Waving to Khem, she strode to the door, the others falling in behind her.

*****

Paladius greeted her warmly, but she knew better than to trust his oily reassurances. He thought he could buy her off with the artifact. His petty games with names only shortened her patience. “No, I do not want a drink. You know what I want.”

The bulky Sith Lord didn’t answer at once, taking his time as he poured himself a glass and leisurely drank from it. She waited, knowing this was just another game of dominance. Finally he turned to her with a smile—a smile that immediately set her hackles to rising. He looked far too complacent, as if he knew something she did not. A wave of faintness washed over her and she shook her head briefly to dispel it. It didn’t help; in fact, she suddenly felt so ill that she fell to one knee. Through her confusion she was vaguely aware of Khem moving restlessly at her side. Would he rebel against her now, seeing her weakness? Or had he been affected as well? Perhaps he was waiting to see how she dealt with this. 

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to her feet again. With everything she had overcome to this point, she would not allow herself to fail now. 

Paladius’ smile widened. “Ah, you’re beginning to realize you have gravely underestimated me.” He set the cup down and glided closer, quietly for all his bulk. “What you are feeling, my dear, is your essence being drained from you. No, don’t bother—“ as she clenched her fist, willing a globe of lightning into being “—your connection to the Force has been severed as well.” 

She stared at the fitful sparks that were all that appeared. It was true! How had he done this, what--? It didn’t matter; what did was what she could do about it. She would not let this worm defeat her! Drawing her shoulders back, she glared at him. “You. Are one. Dead. Man.”

He laughed again, and Rylee made a noise that might have been a fearful moan. Destris was cursing, low and steady. Paladius ignored them, making an abrupt gesture. Miho found her feet flying out from under her, landing on the floor with a thump. He had force-shoved her! So apparently what had affected her, did not trouble him. But he didn’t know that she had survived for many years without the benefit of the Force. 

She had hardly touched the floor before bouncing back to her feet, years of agility training showing their benefit. Paladius was still crowing about his success; she ignored him, drawing her saber. The fool, the arrogant fool—instead of attacking her with the Force, he also was drawing his lightsaber!

Lips drawn back in a feral grin, she leapt to the attack. 

Rylee was smart enough to dive for cover immediately. Destris, of course, attacked, and nearly died immediately to one of the bodyguards; if they had not been as cocky as Paladius himself, he would have. 

Khem snarled and charged Paladius, who back-pedaled more quickly than she would have expected from one of his bulk. He had obviously never confronted an angry Dashade before. Wariness would hold him off long enough. She hoped.

She turned her attention to the bodyguards, who had Destris pinned behind a low wall. They were good, very good, and it took far too long to deal with them. She wounded both, but had only managed to kill one just as Khem gave an angry roar that had more than a bit of pain in it. (quote) She glanced over to see him fall back, one leg damaged beyond the ability to support him. One arm hung uselessly at his side as well. Immediately she left the remaining guard for Destris to finish off and vaulted over the desk to intercept Paladius. 

She stifled a surge of exultation as she realized that not only did she feel the Force trickling back, but that it had been for some moments. Apparently he could not hold the shield on her and fight as well. Perhaps he had expected to take her out quickly, or that she would not regain enough, fast enough to be a difficulty.

He was wrong, on all counts. 

He also was not as good at saber work as he thought he was. She saw the fear on his face as that realization dawned on him, and he began attacking her with the Force as well. Those attacks she could only endure, until she accumulated enough power, first to shield, then to attack in turn. 

It was over quickly after that. 

She might have expected that in defeat, he would grovel and beg for his life. That he thought there was even a chance of that, much less that she would let him rule the cult, had her shaking her head in disbelief. She cut off his final beseeching words without a qualm and stepped around the body to see to Khem. 

The Dashade was standing now, on one leg, angry at himself for being taken out of the fight. “You weakened him for me to finish off, Khem. Now hush and be still.” She ignored his griping grumbles as she poured healing Force into him. With his inherent abilities, it took more to heal him than Destris, who she turned to next. By the time she was done, she was quite drained and in no mood for further problems. 

Which meant, of course, that Destris had to open his mouth. “Well, that was every bit as satisfying as I expected.” Miho threw him a look; he sounded as if he had been the one to kill Paladius! He didn’t see it, which only proved her estimation of his lack of ability, and continued. “We’re in your debt, Rylee and me. Only, the thing is, everyone in the cult looks up to you now, and you’re leaving Nar Shaddaa…” he trailed off, obviously expecting her to confirm him as leader.

“Rylee will be in charge when I depart,” she said shortly. Where had Paladius hidden the artifact… ah. He had actually been so confident as to leave it in the bookcase, behind the bottles of liquor. She held it up with a smile of satisfaction. One more down. 

Destris began to bluster. “They won’t accept a woman—“ Miho turned as she put the artifact away, and arched an eyebrow at him. He faltered. “—uh, a woman who isn’t a Sith—as boss. They’ll argue at every turn!”

Like you, she didn’t say. She stared at him. “You can be the figurehead if you wish, but Rylee calls the shots. And if anything happens to her, you’re next.” She held his gaze, but wasn’t quite sure he got the point. Casually she offered her hand, and he automatically reached for it. Suddenly he yelped and jumped backward as he realized her palm was now full of a ball of glowing lightning. His heel caught on the carpet and he landed on his ass, staring fearfully up at her as she moved to stand over him, the lightning emitting fitful pops that made him wince away. “Do. We. Understand. One. Another.”

He nodded frantically. “Uh, yeah, yeah! Of course! Rylee is the boss!”

She dropped her hand. “Very good.” Turning to Rylee, who had been standing quietly by the whole time, she beckoned. 

The girl dipped her head as she came closer. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll do my best to fulfill your trust in me.”

Miho couldn’t help a wry smile. “I know you will, Rylee.” Seized by an unfamiliar impulse, she patted the girl’s arm. “Call me Miho. And if you have any trouble with Destris, let me know.”

Rylee’s jaw dropped a little. “I, I’ll do that, my lo—uh, Miho.” She recovered quickly from her stumble and smiled shyly. “Thank you again. We’d still be hiding in that hole if not for you. And you saved so many people; I’ll see that they don’t forget.”

Slightly uncomfortable at the praise, Miho just nodded. “I’ll be leaving as soon as my ship is readied.” More and more eager to be off this planet, she motioned to Khem. How did one do farewells? She didn’t really have any practical experience in social interactions. “Ah, I’m sure you’ll do well.” Should she smile again? She settled for a nod, which seemed to be sufficient, as Rylee gave a small bow before turning to Destris. Miho took the opportunity to gather up Khem and make her exit. She assumed they would take care of the remains; part of the job they’d taken on. 

As was his wont, Khem was silent as they boarded a taxi for the spaceport, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Now she allowed herself a moment of pride. Again her determination and will had carried her through what should have been a hopeless situation. Paladius had years more experience than she, and sheer power was not enough to overcome that. It helped, of course. But power not backed by will was useless. Perhaps he had become soft and complacent; she vowed silently that she would not do the same.

One by one, she would break the links of her chains.


	5. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her ancestor visits...

The ship seemed to welcome her back, cool and quiet. Toovee had learned that she did not appreciate his chattering, especially coming in from a mission. She delayed comming Zash until she had washed. Perhaps it was only her imagination but the stink of Nar Shaddaa seemed to cling to her skin, an oily residue that she scrubbed away vigorously. 

It was rather an anticlimax when Zash had no further leads for her as yet, only congratulating her on her handling of Paladius. The commendation didn’t exactly warm her heart. More and more she had been getting the feeling of being led along a path, to an end she could not foresee but had no doubt would be far more to Zash’s benefit than her own. Yet she could see no other way to go. And, if she had to be honest, she was curious as to the woman’s true aims. Well, forewarned was forearmed, as they said, so Miho would be on her guard at all times.

Still, the uncertainty was enough to ensure that her sleep was troubled, amorphous nightmares waking her time and time again. Sometimes she was back in the slave pens. Sometimes she was facing Paladius again, but powerless and helpless before him. Even Skotia made an appearance, his disdainful sneer as he ground her underfoot worse than the pain of his saber through her body.

Finally it was too much; she woke to find herself upright in her bed with a scream on her lips. Somehow she managed to muffle it before it escaped. Sweat trickled down her spine, and she shoved irritably at the tangled bedclothes to free herself. That had been an especially bad one. Resting her head in her hands for a weary moment, she focused on controlling her breathing, bringing it back to normal. 

After several moments, she felt steady enough to slip from the bed. Cold water dashed on her face helped even more, but as she dried off, she stiffened. The hairs on the back of her neck, sweat-dampened as they were, tried to rise as her senses began ringing alarm bells. 

Something was there, in the room with her. 

A thought brought her saber to her hand before she turned around. As she prepared to draw upon the Force, she froze at the sight of the apparition before her. 

Kallig. Her long-dead ancestor, according to him. But how?

He spoke as she was still gathering her nightmare-mazed thoughts. “Flesh of my flesh, listen to me. I cannot linger long. It takes too much out of me to appear here. But I must warn you. Your master, Darth Zash, is plotting something. Whatever it is, can mean nothing good for you.”

She could see the walls of her cabin through his ethereal form. Was she still dreaming? No, this didn’t jibe with the tenor of her nightmares. And when she’d encountered him in the Dark Temple, he had said he would speak to her again. Belatedly his meaning penetrated, and she switched off the lightsaber and tossed it onto the bed. “I know.” Did he think she was stupid? Every day she wondered what Zash’s true intentions were, and what the woman truly wanted from her. It was a constant tension in the back of her mind, wearing at her day in and day out. Maddening.

Shaking her head as if that would calm her racing thoughts, she snapped irritably, “I killed Scotia; I’m not afraid of Zash.” 

“Do not become arrogant,” he admonished. Arrogant? A Sith Lord admonishing someone for being arrogant? Before she could inform him of the irony of that little statement he went on, “I have seen Zash making her preparations. She’s taken two new apprentices, a boy named Kaal and a girl named Corrin. She’s been sending them into the Dark Temple, presumably to confirm that I am gone.”

In the midst of reaching for a glass of water, Miho stopped. Zash had taken other apprentices? She stifled the surge of anger and –what was that? It could not possibly be hurt! Had she really fallen under Zash’s spell? Let those honeyed tones work their insidious wiles upon her? No, of course not. She was simply affronted. “So, they’re dead now, right?” She couldn’t quite keep the snarl from her voice. 

“I considered that, but then I heard them speak of Zash and her desire that the chamber be secured for her work.” That news brought Miho around to face him again. “Soon enough, Zash herself appeared. She comes every day now, studying the place and performing rituals.” He paused, and she wished she could see his face instead of the expressionless, seamless mask. “You are in danger.”

As if that was news. She’d been in danger all her life. And she’d known all along that Zash wanted her for something. Now, perhaps, she would find out what. “What kind of rituals?”

Kallig flicked his fingers dismissively. “Minor ones. But preparing for something bigger.” She felt his gaze upon her, studying her. “Zash has taught you, crafted you, with some purpose in mind. She knows your weakness, your strengths. You must prepare yourself to withstand her.”

“And how am I supposed to do that when I don’t know what she’s planning?” Miho bit out. Her ancestor appeared to enjoy doling out information in dribs and drabs.

“As you are doing: training, pitting yourself against all situations. Zash thinks she is shaping you; you must shape yourself. And there is something else. On Korriban, a Sith Lord has discovered a piece of my old armor.” Transparent fingers tapped soundlessly on his helm. “My mask. You must retrieve it; it will protect you.”

Miho kept her expression noncommittal. Wear that ugly old thing? Well… if he was right, she would. She wouldn’t turn down any advantage. “Where is this mask?”

“The Lord’s compound overlooks the tombs. He thinks it no more than a trinket. And to him, that is all it is. But for you, it will guard you against Zash’s attacks. Go and claim your birthright.”

Miho nodded absently. “Thank you. I will.” Her mind was already flashing ahead, busy planning. Korriban, wonderful. She had hoped she’d seen the last of that place. And she would have to proceed carefully, so that Zash did not get word of her visit. But Kallig wasn’t quite done.

“I cannot guarantee when I will be able to speak with you again. As I said, it is difficult for me to visit you. But I will continue to watch over my chamber in the temple, conserving my energy for when I learn something more.” In the next instant he was gone.

Miho sighed to herself. She had many more questions for her ancestor, but maybe another time. Well, she might as well get started; it wasn’t like she was going to get back to sleep anytime soon. She headed for the cockpit.

********

The planet filled the viewscreen, reflected light from the twin suns sending sparkling glare into her eyes despite the filters. Miho slitted her eyes but her thoughts were elsewhere. She’d had little trouble retrieving Kallig’s helm. The Sith Lord, Khreusis, apparently didn’t think well of Zash. That, and Miho defeating his apprentices, apparently convinced him that she had a good chance of removing a rival, and he had given the mask to her with his blessing. 

When Zash called on the holoterminal so shortly after returning to her ship, she had thought that Khreusis had betrayed her, but no. Zash had had another dream, foretelling future glory. Hah. As if Miho believed that. It was just another shiny bait, drawing her into Zash’s trap. Well, she would trigger that trap and turn the tables on the woman. Until then, she would play along. She had been unable to resist letting Zash know that she knew about the other apprentices, however. And had promptly let herself be mollified. Quite the balancing act she was playing, appearing to be taken in while not acting the complete fool. Ah, well, time to call and inform her ‘master’ that she’d arrived at Tatooine. 

She waited impatiently for the request to go through. Finally the holoterminal pinged. She pressed the accept button and watched Zash’s image appear, keeping her expression neutral. 

That was getting harder and harder to do. Whether it was the blatant flattery, the girlish tones, or simply the knowledge that the woman could not be as she appeared, Miho found herself holding her calm expression with more difficulty each time she spoke. Focus, she commanded herself silently. It wouldn’t be for much longer, one way or another. 

She listened as Zash prattled on, but her interest sparked quickly. “A pirate? I’ve always wanted to meet a pirate.”

Zash gave her a condescending smile. “They aren’t like the holo-dramas, dear. And Revel’s reputation, while never very playful, is even less so now. He and his crew stole the artifact in a raid on some Sith ruins, but apparently there was some dissension amongst the ranks. His crew mutinied, and took his ship and the artifact. I sent a cruiser to recover the artifact, but all they found was Andronikos in an escape pod, half mad.” Zash gave a pitying smile that Miho didn’t believe for a microsecond. “We let him stew for a while in Imperial prison, and then released him. He's been hunting his crew down ever since. And we've been watching.”

Not a bad tactic, Miho admitted grudgingly, letting him do the work. “And what does he do when he finds them?” she asked.

Zash shrugged dismissively. “Oh, a blaster bolt to the head, a knife to the throat, whatever strikes his mood.” She smirked. “He’s very good at it. He's never lingered longer than it takes to kill, but,” the image frowned, “Tatooine is different. It's been weeks. I believe Andronikos has found the leader of the mutiny and with him, the artifact. Find Andronikos and you'll find a clear course.”

“Why not simply let him find the man, and then go after him?” Miho asked curiously.

Zash shook her head. “He’s very clever at hiding, actually. We might miss his move. And there’s no guarantee that he would actually take the artifact when he found it. It does us no good in the middle of countless miles of burning sand.”

Miho nodded. Best thing to do was find Revel, and stick close to him. “So, where is he?”

Zash sighed. “Ah, we don’t know, exactly. As I said, he is very good at hiding. But he must have come through the spaceport at some point. Start with the shipmaster. Good luck, apprentice. And remember, every piece draws you closer to your full potential.” 

Miho managed a properly awed expression, she hoped, waiting until the image had dimmed before scowling. Full potential, indeed. What was the woman planning? Why would she want Miho to be as strong as possible? Was she going to send her against her rivals?

Faugh. This was pointless. The only way she was going to find out what Zash had planned was to find these artifacts. And to do that, right now she had to focus on finding this pirate, this Andronikos Revel.

“Khem,” she called as she headed for the cockpit. “Make ready. We’ll be landing soon.”

Soon. Soon it would all be settled.


	6. Tatooine: To meet a pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tatooine, desert planet, a--wait, wrong universe. Starting over...   
> Finding the pirate was the easy part. (And he promptly took over the narrative, sorry!)

Andronikos Revel wanted very much to strangle something. Preferably his enemy, but right now anyone would do.

He stared down the diminutive woman, clenching his fists. The thin veneer he’d managed thus far cracked, showing the burning rage that had been there ever since the mutiny. She didn’t seem intimidated by his anger, but he wasn’t giving in. Couldn’t give in. He was so close to his revenge; he wouldn’t let anyone, not even a Sith, keep him from it. He ignored the threat of the terrifyingly ugly monster at her side. She couldn’t get what she wanted without him, and he fully intended to get what he wanted, too. No one was going to kill Wilkes, but him. Only a thin thread of caution kept him from exploding, reminding him that this was a Sith; if he didn’t tread very carefully here, he could lose it all. 

She finally huffed in disgust. "Fine. But the artifact is mine."

He had sense enough not to rub in his victory. “Hey, you can have the damned thing, I don’t care. Brought me enough bad luck already.”

He barely paid attention to the discussion that followed between her and the bodyguard, too busy gleefully grabbing up his gear. The monster finally stalked off and she turned back to him. “If you’re _quite_ ready, I have several people to speak to before we can leave.” She cast a jaundiced look at his blasters. “I hope you’re as good with those as you claim; the speeder only holds two so I sent Khem back to my ship.”

Andronikos gave her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am, I think you’ll be more than happy with my, ah, _expertise_."

Showing no response to his sarcasm, she merely turned for the door in a swish of robes. He followed, not bothering to hide his smirk. This was going to be interesting.

He nearly changed his mind about that during the next while. This Sith sure had been a busy little bee. If this artifact was so important to her, why was she running missions for everyone and his brother? The delay did, however, give him time to study her.

She spoke to various military officials as if she were an equal, or better. They in turn treated her with wary respect for the most part, if not outright fear. Even other Sith were at least polite to her (well, polite for a Sith, which meant they didn’t threaten agonizing death), all of which made him wonder: just who was this girl? From what he overheard, he gathered that she was not even a full Sith yet, only an apprentice. What had she done to elicit such reactions?

She was pretty under that robe and hood, from what he could see; large doe-eyes in a doll-like face, with the slight form of a dancer. But if she’d survived the Sith Academy, she was anything but fragile. All in all, a dangerous combination. He would have to be very careful; once his usefulness to her was over, she would think nothing of killing him. 

And yet... she had spoken almost kindly to that monster that followed her like a puppy. She had called it, him, by name. Reassured him that she would not abandon him. Damned strange behavior for a Sith. 

Raised voices drew his attention to the present conversation. Such as it was. One of the back-water officials of this back-water world was whining to the Sith. Andronikos’ lip curled in disgust. Gah, bureaucrats were all alike, all convinced of their own importance and completely sure that everyone was interested in every little facet of their lives. Andronikos kept his mouth shut, though.

_She_ didn’t. “I’m quite certain that I did _not_ say, ‘Please expendable worm, tell me about your life’.” The words fairly dripped with sarcastic venom. She hadn’t even raised her voice; she didn’t have to. Nikos didn’t bother to hide his grin as the man paled, practically crawling as he begged her forgiveness. Okay, so far being a Sith’s sidekick was showing some definite perks. He’d seldom seem such an inflated ego punctured so mercilessly, and without a single overt threat. He thought he was going to like this girl. 

If they could get moving and find Wilkes. He gritted his teeth. He’d been here for weeks, searching; surely he could stand a few hours. She’d already made more progress in one day than he had since he’d arrived. Of course, she could approach Casey, something he still wasn’t willing to do. Their last face-to-face hadn’t gone so well. 

Just when he thought he might explode from impatience, she led the way to her rented speeder. She made no protest when he took the driver’s seat and he had to discard the snappy comeback he’d had all prepared. 

They ran into a few problems; sandpeople attacks, mostly. Nothing to cause them any real trouble, but it gave him a chance to see her in action. She was good, damned good, and not just with the lightning-flinging. When they had to fight, she didn’t just charge in throwing lightning bolts around; she studied the situation, and then applied a strategy to minimize any dangers. She even listened to his suggestions. She didn’t always take his advice, but she listened.

She was a puzzle; imperious but not pompous, threatening but not blustering, fearless but not reckless. She didn't scream venomous threats or yell in self-righteous fury, merely went about her work with solemn determination. He’d dealt with Sith before and was used to their swaggering, overbearing ways. It hadn’t saved them. But she was as far from those idiots as a scyk was from a womp rat. She didn’t kill just for the sake of killing, or torment for fun. The arrogance of most Siths could be used against them, but while she spouted the expected lines about the superiority of the Sith, they seemed to be just that: lines. Almost as if she was playing a part. Sometimes he thought she even had a sense of humor—one that didn’t include torture. Which brought him right back to it: she was damned strange, for a Sith.

He’d figure her out, eventually. 

\-----------  
Miho shaded her eyes from the ever-present glare of the twin suns. Tatooine was definitely not on her list of favorite places so far. Even with the control she maintained over her body through the Force, the heat was near unbearable, and the gritty, drifting sand was a constant annoyance. It got into everything and left her mouth feeling horrible.

“So, if this artifact is so important, why’re you going off on all these wild-goose chases?”

She glanced at Revel. Goggles hid his eyes from view as he drove the speeder with casual competence across the rocky crags and shifting dunes alike. She considered for a long moment whether to answer and mentally shrugged. It wasn’t like it was a secret, and he had been a model companion so far, keeping his mouth shut and taking orders with a nod. She’d noted his impatience, but he had held his tongue, and he actually seemed to be as good with his blasters as he’d claimed. Besides, the desert was damned boring. 

“It earns a few credits and enhances my reputation. Never hurts to have more of either. Besides, it’s for ‘the glory of the Empire’.” She didn’t bother hiding her sarcasm. What had the Empire done for her? If she hadn’t been discovered to have Force powers, she’d still be a slave, most likely in some Hutt’s harem by now.

Revel gave a throaty chuckle. “Yeah. ‘For the Empire’.” He threw a sidelong glance her way, which she loftily ignored. If he didn’t believe her, so what? Zash herself had told her to help out as she could, and she had simply continued that practice. Some credit would apply to Zash, of course, but she would be known as the one who did the deeds. And you never knew when you might need to call in some favors. 

But this pirate didn’t need to know everything. Perhaps it was time to divert him. And she had been curious. “Why didn’t you contact your ‘friend’ Casey directly?” she asked bluntly. “You said she was trustworthy.”

He shifted in his seat. “I, uh, couldn’t take the chance that I’d be spotted. Once Wilkes knew I was on planet, he’d bury himself so deep I’d never find him.” 

She sensed there was more to it than he was saying, but let it drop. She did not care, as long as he led her to the artifact.

*****

Face to face with Wilkes, after all this time--it was almost too good to be true. He felt an insane urge to laugh, especially when the Sith got indignant at the man’s gibe. “I am _not_ cute! I am _deadly_!” She didn’t quite stomp her foot.

When the fight began he could see nothing but his enemy, only vaguely aware of the guards screaming as she lashed them with lightning. He wasn’t worried; after seeing her in action he was pretty sure the girl could handle them by herself. Besides, he had more than his hands full with Wilkes. The man was much better than he remembered. 

He gasped as a shot burned his shoulder, and suddenly he realized that it was far from the first one; he was badly hurt. In his rage he hadn’t noticed the previous wounds; now he did, and felt his strength almost at its end. He fell to one knee, trying to ignore Wilkes’ savage grin of triumph. Well, hopefully he’d damaged the man enough that she could finish him off. “Nice knowing ya, Sith!” he rasped. Dammit, he wouldn’t mind so much if he knew for sure that Wilkes was dead, too.

A sheet of translucent violet energy appeared between him and his opponent; the shot that surely would have killed him splashed harmlessly on the surface of the shield. He stared in disbelief, and gasped again as a rush of warmth filled him. What the -- 

It was her! Her hands stretched toward him, nearly obscured by darkly glowing coils of energy. Her face was set with concentration; she didn’t see one of the fallen guards raising his blaster—

“Look out!” He fired without thinking, the bolt passing within inches of her to explode in the man’s face. She never flinched, continuing to do whatever it was she was doing—healing him, he realized belatedly. The bubble of protective energy around him disappeared—and thank the Maker that it appeared to only block incoming shots--and he grinned ferally at Wilkes. He was practically good as new, while Wilkes... wasn’t. “Time to die, worm.”

Streamers of lightning from her hands joined his blaster, forcing the mutineer to his knees in short order. Andronikos realized he was grinning crazily with victory, barely remembering in time that they needed Wilkes alive for information. All he wanted was the locations of the remaining crew members. She was welcome to the damned artifact for all of him. The thing was cursed.

When they had gotten what little Wilkes knew, he took a moment to savor the feeling, looking down at Wilkes’ defiant snarl. For a moment he thought the Sith was about to say something but he fired, drowning it out. He stared down at the body, bemused. Somehow it hadn’t felt quite as satisfying as he had thought it would. Well, there were still a few more of his erstwhile crew to hunt down. 

“We’re done here.” She had already turned away by the time he looked up. 

“Hey!” She didn’t pause and he trotted to catch up. “Hey, ah... thanks for the, ah, you know.” She didn’t reply and he tried again. “Didn’t know Sith could heal; I thought all they did was agonizing pain.” He grinned but she ignored him, still striding toward the exit. He pitched his voice with a little more force. “Why’d you do it, Sith? You could have let me die, taken down Wilkes yourself.”

She stopped at that, half-turning to him with a blank expression. He waited, and after a long moment she said, “While he was focused on you, I was free to attack without spending energy to defend myself. It benefited me to keep you alive, to hold his attention.”

“Use me as bait, eh. I see.” But she’d spent energy to defend him, energy she could have used against Wilkes. So why? Surely a Sith didn’t feel compassion, or loyalty?

She seemed to sense his skepticism. “Besides, you have held to your part of the bargain. You have been... useful.” She cocked her head. “I could ask the same. You have protected me, at the cost of your own safety. Even turned from your attacker to distract mine when I was beset.” So she had noticed.

He grinned. “Lady, when I make a pledge, I put my all into it. I don’t do things by halves.”

She nodded. “I see.” She pivoted and began walking again. Apparently the subject was closed.

For her, at least; he still had plenty to think about. Her ‘explanation’ didn’t quite ring true. If he didn’t know better he’d think she didn’t quite know herself why she’d saved him. But he’d let it drop. For now. She was a strange Sith, that was for sure. 

He quickened his step to catch up with her again. “So... why do you want that thing, this ‘artifact’? You’ve seen the effect it has—it really is cursed.”

She glanced at him from under the hood, her porcelain visage expressionless. “Power, what else?”

He snorted. “The only power that thing has is the power to ruin lives.”

One black-clad shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug. “It’s useless to anyone else. Only in the right hands can it fulfill its true purpose.”

“And what is that?” he asked.

“None of your business.” Her tone was pleasant enough but rang with finality. Eh, he’d gotten more than he expected, anyway.

They emerged into the merciless sunlight and he winced. Ugh, he hated this planet. Should have plugged Wilkes a few extra times just for making him come here to kill the slive. Which reminded him, the agreement had been to get Wilkes for him, and the artifact for her. He’d gotten Wilkes, but he still owed payback to the remaining members of his old crew that had gotten away. She didn’t really need him anymore, but since she didn’t have the artifact yet, either, he’d just assume the agreement still stood.

She was already climbing into the rented speeder; he vaulted into the driver’s seat and powered it up. “So, off to the Dune Sea,” he said casually. She paused, giving him a long, level look. 

Long practice kept him from fidgeting, even managing to return her look calmly despite those blasted suns beating down on him. How she managed to look so cool and collected in those black robes, he’d give a year’s pay to know. Just when he thought she would tell him they were done and to head for Mos Ila, she gave a brief nod. “Very well.”

He grinned and spun the throttle, sending sand up in a spray. All right, then.


	7. Tatooine: And then there were three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still on Tatooine, finding the artifact, among other fun times.

These walking dead gave him the creeps. _Damn Czerka for meddling in things it shouldn’t!_ Whatever they’d discovered out here in the deep desert should have stayed buried. He fired again, dropping another ‘converted’ drone. He might have been getting impatient with the Sith’s little side jobs, but this was one he agreed needed to be done.

A gurgle alerted him; one of the things had the Sith by the throat, tendrils of energy crackling between them. He roared a curse and fired, nearly blowing its head off. It released her as it fell and she dropped to the ground. 

That had been the last one, for the moment. He knelt beside her, not touching. He knew better than that. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond at once, just massaged her throat. She closed her eyes, going into a light healing trance. Only a few moments passed before she opened them again. “It tried to... assimilate me.”

He grimaced. “Good thing it seems to take a little time to accomplish that. You should be more careful, though; don’t let ‘em get so close.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. "If those, those _things_ take me, you must kill me immediately." She stared at him earnestly.

"What?" He gawked at her, not believing what he was hearing.

"A Sith, transformed... would be terrible beyond belief." Her face was deadly serious, but there was something in her eyes—was that fear he saw? “It would be an abomination. Promise me, swear that you will destroy it, me, if that happens.” She didn’t seem to realize she’d grabbed his jacket in her fervor.

She _was_ afraid! He remembered that pretty officer at the base, shambling up to them, her eyes replaced with whirring machinery, face dead—he shuddered. No, he didn’t want to go that way, either. Without thinking he grasped her hand tightly between his. “I swear.”

She held his gaze a moment longer, those huge eyes searching his. Apparently satisfied, she nodded abruptly. “Very well. It goes without saying that I shall do the same for you.” She freed her hand and got to her feet, brushing at her robes. “Well, shall we move on? There are more here to destroy.”

He stood as well, and bowed slightly. “After you, lady.” To his own surprise, for once it didn’t sound sarcastic.

She glanced over her shoulder, her face once again inscrutable. “My name, is Miho.”

He blinked in surprise but she had already turned away. Well, well. “After you, Miho,” he stressed the syllables lightly. She merely nodded and strode on. He followed, his own face thoughtful.

*********

  
The artifact’s curse seemed unabated, as they followed its trail of bodies across the shifting sands. Each datapad they found tightened Revel’s expression more, until Miho was certain his face would crack. The ceaseless wind blew across the Dune Sea, the twin suns beat down as savagely as before, but she grew ever more concerned that he might simply explode if they reached the end of the trail without something to vent himself upon.

So she wasn’t exactly surprised that upon the discovery of the last two bodies in a sandpeople tent, Revel threw a tantrum. She was rather impressed at his command of invective; she didn’t think he repeated the same slur twice. Ignoring his outburst, she bent to rifle the bodies. Ah, there it was. She slid the cube into her bag as she stood up. Angling a jaundiced look at Revel, she sighed. Wouldn’t he ever shut up? Maybe she should shock him. Just a little, just to knock him out of the loop he seemed stuck in.

Luckily for him, he either ran out of words or noticed her increasing impatience. Perhaps his fury made him state the obvious. “They got away!”

She sighed, glancing at the huddled forms on the floor. “They were killed,” she bent slightly to see better, “and possibly, eaten. I don’t quite see that as ‘getting away’.”

He snorted. “What, it doesn’t bother you that you can’t make them pay for chasing all the way across this hellhole of a planet after your artifact?” She shrugged and he shook his head in bafflement. “I can’t figure you, Sith.”

“Perhaps I like it that way,” she sniffed. Did he think she concerned herself with his thoughts?

He gave a dry chuckle. “Mysterious, eh? Okay, suit yourself.” His temper seemed to have melted away with suspicious speed. She wondered if it was an act, something to promote the image of the dangerous pirate. Perhaps, but she noted something in his eyes that told differently. His rage was real; perhaps, as she had learned, he knew how to nurture it until he could use it to best effect. 

Dismissing the thought, she swept towards the exit. “We’re done here,” she stated. She sensed him hesitate before following her out into the sunlight.

“Hey, Sith, hold on a second.”

Curious, she stopped and regarded the pirate. “What? You found all your erstwhile crew members—or what was left of them--I have my artifact; what more is there?”

“Look, if you’re done with this rock, how about taking me with you?” He spread his hands. “Like you said, I’ve done what I came to do. Got nowhere else to be, and you seem to live an interesting life. I can be useful; I’m a damned good pilot, and in my business I made a lot of contacts no Sith could make on their own. Contacts that might come in handy to you.”

“And you thought the best time to bring this up was in the middle of a sandpeople camp?” she asked disbelievingly. They had cut a swath through the camp getting to their objective, but the natives were beginning to regroup, regaining their courage as their numbers grew. She sensed them drawing closer; they would attack soon.

“Pfft, nothing more than we’ve handled already,” he waved dismissively. “So, whaddya say?”

She considered the notion thoughtfully. It was true, he had been helpful. And while her ship practically flew itself, she could foresee times when more expertise would be needed. His point about his knowledge of the seamier underside of planets was well taken. She eyed his careless-seeming pose, noting his eyes flicking to barely seen movements as the natives scurried closer, his hands resting oh-so-casually close to his blasters. Cool under fire, as she had already seen. He had been trustworthy, so far, and if that changed, well, she could always blast him to bits if he crossed her.

She sighed theatrically. “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?” He grinned at her tacit acceptance but she held up a hand warningly. “But I am in charge, and don't you dare forget it.” She let loose a trickle of power to send sparks dripping from her hands.

His grin only widened. “I’ll take that for a yes. Let’s get off this hunk of rock, then, huh?”

*****

Miho raised an eyebrow at the figure waiting for them in the doorway of the docking bay. She thought that Revel hesitated a moment, but when she kept moving, he followed. Perhaps now she’d discover why he had been avoiding Rix. 

Casey shook her head in disbelief as they neared. “I can’t believe it. You actually not only beat Wilkes, but made it out of the desert alive.” Miho raised an inquisitive eyebrow and Casey raised her hands disarmingly. “Oh, Wilkes doesn’t surprise me, but when I heard you were going into the desert? It’s swallowed up armies. I wasn’t expecting to see either of you again.” Her tone showed clear admiration and, was that relief as she eyed Revel?

Miho found herself liking this girl despite herself. She’d learned long ago not to trust anyone, but a small show of friendliness wouldn't hurt. She smirked at Casey. “I’ve surprised many people before. And look, I even brought Andronikos back.”

Rix snorted a surprised laugh. “You should stick with this one,” she said to Revel, still chuckling. “Maybe you’ll even learn a sense of humor.”

He didn’t seem amused as he took a jerky step forward, finger raised accusingly. “Lookit, I have a sense of humor--!” he began hotly.

Casey cut him off with the exasperated look of one who had heard it before. “Oh relax, it was just a joke.” Perhaps realizing that his outburst had only underlined her point, he subsided and she turned back to Miho. “Anyway, glad I caught you before you left. I wanted to thank you for taking out Wilkes. He was holding us back; maybe with him gone the Exchange can get ahead for a change.”

Miho shrugged. “You helped me; I helped you. It all worked out.”

Casey nodded. “Still, thanks.” She hesitated, looking at Revel. Miho looked on curiously. “Uh, Andronikos, look, I’m sorry, about, you know....”

Revel coughed, not meeting Casey’s eyes at first. Miho raised an eyebrow. She wouldn't have thought the man could look embarrassed. He finally looked at Casey. “It’s all right. We wouldn't have worked out anyway. All that shouting and throwing stuff--somebody was bound to get hurt." Aha, so they had had a relationship.

Casey seemed just as uncomfortable as Revel. "Yeah, right... well, I guess this is, uh, goodbye then." She paused but Revel didn't seem inclined to comment. "So... good luck out there." She nodded at Miho and headed for the exit with brisk strides.

Miho glanced at the swiftly departing girl before turning her attention to her new pilot. "So. What was that all about?" she prodded.

He coughed again. "Uh, nothing. Just... saying goodbye. That's all." He brushed past her, heading for the docking bay. "Let's get off this rock, huh?"

Miho followed more slowly, a small smirk crossing her face at her success in piercing the man's facade. Not quite as tough as he made out to be, eh? This could be interesting.


End file.
